


Fever Dreams

by Why_Did_I_Do_This942



Category: PleaseNo
Genre: Cease, LolNo, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:53:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_Did_I_Do_This942/pseuds/Why_Did_I_Do_This942
Summary: OOF lol why am I awake and writing this it's past midnight. The actual characters belong to- of all games- Poptropica. I know, I know, weird choice. Rule 34, kids.Wait, kids shouldn't be reading this, nevermind.





	Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> OOF lol why am I awake and writing this it's past midnight. The actual characters belong to- of all games- Poptropica. I know, I know, weird choice. Rule 34, kids.
> 
> Wait, kids shouldn't be reading this, nevermind.

*BOOM* Winston jumped at the large crash-like noise and then sighed. He HATED thunderstorms. He'd call it a phobia, even. For even though he was very much safe from the storm in the isolated cabin mansion where he worked as a butler, he still got uneasy and jumped every time lightning struck. His three friends who also lived in the cabin had no idea, which he was extremely thankful for. Winston was a known scaredy cat, adding yet another thing to his long list of fears would just result in more teasing. He never told his friends that the constant teasing bothered him, it wasn't mean spirited, even. He just didn't want to be the baby of the group, but that's a bit of a problem when your fears are so bad you literally cling to your friends for support.

Winston shook his head and tried to focus on cleaning the already spotless house, perhaps that would take his mind off the storm. *BOOM* It struck again and Winston was caught so off guard he yelped in fear, only to hear a laugh behind him. "Wha- Winston! You're scared of STORMS, too?!" An amused voice commented. 'Oh, Zeus, please no. ' The butler thought desperately, he then turned to find his boss standing behind him. "That's priceless! I gotta tell Clara and Max abo-" "NO!" Winston interjected suddenly. He couldn't stand the thought of more teasing. "Pl-please, sir..! I..." His voice dropped so a whisper. "...I want SOME level of dignity.." He finished, looking down. Myron's gaze softened and he walked up to the man, giving him a small side hug. "Aw, Winston.. I don't mean anything by it. We never meant to make you feel bad. I won't tell them, this can be our little secret." Myron said, a soft tone in his voice that for some reason agitated Winston beyond belief. He looked up, glaring, Myron seemed taken aback. "I'm not some baby," he hissed. "I don't want or need your pity." He roughly shoved Myron's arm away from him. He expected and wanted anger from the hunter. But Myron just looked... hurt. "I'm... sorry..." Myron apologized, looking away. Winston felt a stab of guilt strike his heart. However, it wasn't enough to change his mind. Winston scoffed. "I'm not even afraid of storms," He lied. "I'll PROVE it!" With that, he turned and strutted over to the entrance to the house, swinging the door open without a care. Myron looked up at him in shock. "Hey-! It's pouring rain out there!" He called. Winston rolled his eyes. "I know, I'm not as dumb as you think. If you think at all, that is." He sneered, slamming the door behind him. 

He confidently marched into the rain and after a while he started to really think about what he said. And he started to feel really, really bad. Myron was typically so tough and cool, Winston had figured the man would be capable of handling a few mean words, but... Myron didn't give a smart ass reply, as Winston thought he would, he just looked sad. Winston stopped. What was he doing? Getting soaked to prove a point? How juvenile. His shoulders slumped. He was soaking wet and miserable. The rain was bitterly cold, as it was night and winter was approaching fast. If he had any sense, he'd go home and apologize to Myron profusely. But the shame that he suddenly felt was too overbearing. He waited for a while to turn back, at least until he was sure Myron was asleep so he wouldn't have to face him.

When Winston walked back in the house he was met with two pairs of quite angry eyes. Winston flinched, it was Max and Clara, the other two people who lived in the house. "Uh... hi?" Winston asked nervously. Max tapped his foot irritably. "Do you have any idea how worried you made Myron? How worried you made us?" Max questioned. Winston clenched his fists into tight balls. "I don't care. I don't want a lecture. I needed to prove that I'm not weak." He declared. Clara harshly looked over him, giving him an almost blank stare, but he saw rage boiling underneath her calm exterior. "We never thought you were." She chuckled darkly. "You aren't trying to convince us, you're trying, and failing, to convince yourself." She spat. Max nodded slightly in agreement. "Myron was nearly in tears because of you. Just because he's strong doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings." Winston's heart wavered. He felt like such an asshole. His friends seemed to wait for him to respond but when he didn't say anything, Max continued. "You know, I hope staying out in that storm got you sick. Then you can be as weak physically as you are mentally." He said, sticking his nose in the air. Without another word, both Max and Clara turned and stomped away. As soon as they were gone Winston sighed, rubbing his temple. "Sick.. psh... yeah, right." He shook his head and got ready for bed.

The next day, Winston felt like crap. And not just because of what he did to Myron. He felt exhausted and he shivered even as he wiped sweat off his brow. What happened? Breathing out of his nose was impossible, there was way too much congestion. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pale, well, paler than usual. Could he..? No, he couldn't be sick. He refused to let Max have the satisfaction. He threw on his suit and stumbled his way downstairs, determined to do his job. He thought he'd have to worry about avoiding the others all day... but they seemed to avoid him. He didn't eat breakfast and Clara, the chef of the house, never bothered to call him. Not that he had much of an appetite anyway, the thought of food made him want to vomit so it was just as well. Still... he felt lonely. And tired, so, so tired.... maybe he'd just rest his eyes for a bit.. no! He had to stay awake! With great effort, he scrubbed down the main entrance. The first room was clean! Only... uh... the trophy room... the kitchen... Max and Clara's shared room... their bathroom... his room... his bathroom... Myron's room... Myron's bathroom... and the guest room and bathroom to clean, now. So, ten rooms. Winston sighed and got to cleaning. After many brutal hours of cleaning, and somehow not seeing anyone, he only had one room left, the trophy room. He was just dusting the many taxidermy animals when he abruptly fell with a groan. He tried to push himself up with his arms, but they shook uncontrollably and he fell pathetically to the ground. He eventually was able to shift himself into a sitting position where he could lean against the wall instead of lying on the floor. It wasn't long after that when Myron eventually walked in. "...Hello? Winston? Are you in here?" The hunter asked somewhat shyly, probably afraid Winston was still in a bad mood. "I-I'm here, sir... I just... I need a minute..." Winston tiredly mumbled. When Myron saw his butler basically sitting on the floor he gasped and quickly jogged up to him. "Winston?! Are you okay?!" He asked, fear and concern plain in his voice. "I'm fine.... I'll get up in a minute.." He muttered. "You'll get up in a second, actually." Myron said in a suddenly authoritative voice. "I don't think I ca- GAH!" Winston exclaimed as he felt his limp body get lifted into the air. At first, he was just startled and confused. "Shhh" Myron's gentle voice hushed him as Winston was shifted in his grip. He was now being cradled as though he was a baby. 'Oh, god...' he thought. 'Max and Clara would be eating this up.' Myron started for the exit, much to Winston's protest. "Wait-! I have to finish cleaning!" "Nonsense!" Myron exclaimed. "You're too sick to STAND, you cannot clean in such a condition! It's okay, I'll take care of you." Myron cooed. Winston blushed, he felt so helpless in Myron's arms... he'd always hated feeling weak, but... Myron was so warm and comforting, and.. was it wrong he kind of liked it? It was embarrassing, sure, but he supposed he'd better get used to it, he couldn't move a muscle, whatever Myron did to him he'd have no other choice but to accept.

Myron placed him down on a chair in Winston's room. "First thing's first, lets get you out of those work clothes, hm?" Myron asserted. "Wha-?" Winston began, but it was too late. Myron crouched down and slowly undid his dress shoes for him, untying them carefully and setting them neatly aside. Then he untied Winston's bowtie and removed his coat. He took off Winston's glasses that were too small for his face and pulled off his socks. "Hmm... is it alright with you if I take off your pants? They don't seem very comfortable." Winston blushed but made a small sound of agreement. At that, Myron pulled off his much too formal pants, leaving Winston in a white tank top and his boxers. "Alright, now lets get you into bed." He gently said, picking Winston up again and setting him down on his bed before pulling the blankets and comforter up. "Good!" Myron said, apparently satisfied so far. "Let me think.. what else do you need.. oh! Plenty of liquids! Some medicine.. it'd be great if I could get you to eat, hold on- I need to make a list.." Myron rambled, running off to grab half the items in the house. Almost immediately, the smug faces of Max and Clara appeared in the doorway, they both wore shit eating grins, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Well, well, well... look who got sick." Max remarked, smirking. Winston quite audibly groaned. "Oh, shut up." He mumbled. "Amazing comebacks from Winston, everyone." Max snickered. "Yeah," Clara added, joining in. "You just got roasted, Max." She said, trying and failing not to giggle. "Damn, how can I come back from 'shut up'?" He asked. "You can't, there's no coming back from that, you've been demolished." "Harder than Winston's ass when Myron comes up behind him?" Max gasped. Winston rolled his eyes. Clara and Max were great individually, but together they were incredibly annoying and got off track easily, they had an entire conversation before remembering why they were even there. "Anyway-!" Clara finally remembered. "We got off topic, good thing Myron takes forever to make his ridiculous lists, lol." "Clara, this is real life, don't use text lingo." Max said. "Heck you, I'll do- WE'RE DOING IT AGAIN." She yelled. Max chuckled. "Anyway, we hope you know you deserve this Winston. If you thought we treated you like you were weak before... oh, man, I almost feel sorry for you... almost." Max finished with a Cheshire cat grin. "Yeah... have fun getting babied." Clara snickered. She and Max fistbumped, as they heard Myron climbing the stairs, however, they skedaddled. Fear seeped into Winston's heart... just what DID Myron have planned?


End file.
